


and you couldn’t have known

by chahakyn



Series: what are the youth if they ain’t rebellin? [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Elementary School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Ben is alive and well and Five doesn't get stuck in the apocalypse, Character Death Fix, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, Number Five | The Boy Gets A Hug, Re-adaptation of Canon Plot, Teacher!Grace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:41:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27690154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chahakyn/pseuds/chahakyn
Summary: “They’re strange children, aren’t they?” Hazel says with a curious look in his eyes. Grace shrugs.“I haven’t known them long enough to make a judgement.”“You’ll find out soon enough,” Hazel says with a chuckle, folding his arms over his chest as he turns to look out at the playground.--Grace, the newest teacher at the Umbrella Academy, has to figure out how to deal with the 7 very strange third graders that occupy classroom 3B.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Grace Hargreeves & Everyone, Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves
Series: what are the youth if they ain’t rebellin? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024954
Comments: 31
Kudos: 101





	and you couldn’t have known

**Author's Note:**

> i was possessed by the thought of tiny umbrella academy children doing tiny children things and being the cutest little menaces. that is all

Grace absentmindedly brushes off the front of her skirt as she stares up the rather imposing shape of the Umbrella Academy looming heavily over her. She’s said it once, and she’ll say it again: this place hardly has the appearance an elementary school should have. Imposing heights, dark wood, cold metal gates. It’s all far from comforting, like a school for children should be.

Shaking her head, Grace strolls quickly inside, heels clicking sharply against the wooden floor as she makes her way to the principal’s office. She’s been here once before, for the interview. That had been an…interesting experience. Probably one of the most unorthodox interviews she’s ever had, in that Reginald Hargreeves had barely looked at her before glancing over her credentials and saying that the teaching position was hers. She’s grateful for the job, of course, but she’s hoping this week shadowing some other teachers will be a little more traditional and informative in helping her settle in at this rather odd school.

Grace knocks at the heavy wooden doors, waiting a beat before opening them up to Mr. Hargreeves’ office. He looks exactly the same as she last saw him, bent over his desk scribbling things down, and if he wasn’t wearing a different outfit, she would have sworn not a day had passed since her interview 3 weeks ago.

“Good morning, Mr. Hargreeves.”

“Miss Grace,” he says, head barely raising to acknowledge her. “Room 3B with a class of third graders will be your designated classroom. Did you prepare lesson plans?”

Grace frowns. “I did.”

“Good. You will be starting immediately.”

“I was under the impression I would be shadowing this week, Sir,” Grace says slowly, brows furrowing as she looks intently at Mr. Hargreeves. Does he _really_ expect her to walk into a new school, not know a single person, and still handle a class of children well? He must be out of his mind. Either that or he doesn’t care.

Mr. Hargreeves looks up, giving Grace a stern glare.

“We have no time for shadowing or any other kind of delays here.” He pauses, the pen in his hand twitching ever so slightly. “Would you like to renege on your contract, Miss Grace?”

“I…No, no of course not.” Grace’s fingers curl at her sides as she forces her face to stay placidly neutral. “It’s not a problem, I can begin today.”

“Good. Classes will begin in an hour.” He bends back over his papers and like that, Grace knows the conversation is over. She closes the doors behind herself and makes her way down the halls and stairs, counting down the numbered classroom placards as her mind whirls.

First day in and she’s already going to be teaching. _God_ , this is a nightmare. This is bad, this is worse than bad, first days are always the most terrible and to have no support or knowledge of how anything works around here makes it even worse—

Grace stops in front of room 3B, blinking. No. It will not be worse. First days are always bad, yes, but she can make this work. Grace is a _damn_ good teacher, and she’s not going to let some strange old man make her lose her cool just because he’s trying to pull a fast one of her. She can do this.

The classroom is as normal as a classroom can be, and the 7 third graders that file in neatly at the gentle tolling of the bell seem as normal as children can be.

And the first hour of lessons goes…badly. Grace introduces herself to a room of blank stares, asks the children to tell the class about themselves one by one, but nobody wants to volunteer. She tries to ask them what materials they’ve already covered, but nobody can look her in the eye and respond. It’s all a _mess_. And it’s all as normal as it could be, really. Grace is a professional. She can handle it.

“If you all could make some nametags for your desks,” she says as she passes out sheets of printer paper in an attempt to get any sort of acknowledgment and interaction from the children, “that would be very helpful for me in remembering your names.”

“Why are we making these?” The boy in front of her gives her a pointed look that makes him seems light years ahead of his physical age. “If you can’t remember 7 kids’ names by the end of the first day, maybe you shouldn’t be our teacher at all.”

“ _Five_ ,” the girl across the room from him hisses, her curls bouncing as she shakes her head. “Just go make your nametag.”

Grace opens her mouth to hush the both of them and berate Five for being rude, but Five suddenly turns away from Grace, the challenging look in his eyes replaced with disgruntled irritation as he picks up a few crayons from his pencil box. Grace glances as the other girl who nods to herself in satisfaction as she picks up a purple marker and begins drawing flowers on her nametag. _Allison_.

Interesting. Very interesting.

Grace passes out the remaining papers before moving back to Five’s desk, crouching in front of him. “You said if I couldn’t remember your names by the end of the day, I shouldn’t be your teacher, hm?”

Five nods silently, refusing to look up as he writes his name in forest green crayon with an expression of utmost concentration.

“Well, these nametags are just for today. I promise you I will have all your names by tomorrow. And if I don’t, I’ll find another teacher for all of you. Does that sound alright to you?”

Five looks up at that, gaze suspicious as he tilts his head. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Good,” Grace says with a smile, pushing herself up to her knees as the first bell tolls for recess. “We can finish those nametags after recess. If you could put on your coats, the playground awaits!”

That seems to awaken something in the children, their excited murmurs carrying into shouts of delight as they rush out of the room into the biting winter air outside. Grace follows them out, rubbing her hands together in a weak attempt to ward off the chill.

“So, you’re the new hire then?”

Grace turns, gaze falling on a portly man next to her, dressed much better for the weather than she is.

“I am. My name’s Grace.”

“Hazel.” The man offers his hand, smile warm. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m really grateful that you could take those kids off my hands. Between them and my class, it was a mess.”

“I’m sure it was a handful. It certainly has been for me, so far.”

“They’re strange children, aren’t they?” Hazel says with a curious look in his eyes. Grace shrugs.

“I haven’t known them long enough to make a judgement.”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Hazel says with a chuckle, folding his arms over his chest as he turns to look out at the playground. “If you need anything, let me know. The administration around here isn’t the most…supportive.”

“It seems that way, yeah,” Grace murmurs under her breath, mirroring Hazel’s stance as her eyes scan the playground for her children. Hazel hums in agreement.

“Yeah, well, we make do. Speaking of, if you ever need sweets for parties or anything, please tell me. My wife runs the doughnut shop down the street, and I can get them for you at discount price. And Lord knows the kids’ sweet tooth will eat through your wallet,” he says with a laugh, shaking his head fondly.

“I really appreciate that.” Grace smiles, making a note to try the doughnuts before giving them to the children. Any chance to save money in this line of work is a blessing, no matter the product.

“M-Miss Grace?”

Grace glances down at the feeling of someone tugging on her coat, gaze falling upon one of the little boys in her class…Klaus? It must be Klaus. She glances up and nods gratefully as Hazel mouths _Klaus_ at her as a confirmation.

“Yes, Klaus?”

“There’s a man standing by the swings.” Klaus points with a trembling finger at said swings. “He’s scaring me.”

Grace’s head whips to the swings as she squints, neck craning. “I don’t see…anyone there, sweetheart.”

“He’s there, I can see him,” Klaus insists, tucking himself behind Grace as his grip on her coat tightens.

“Should we take a closer look?”

At Klaus’s nod, Grace takes his hand in hers, leading them slowly to the swing set. There’s still no man there, only Vanya swaying gently back and forth on one of the swings.

“I don’t see anyone here. Vanya, have you seen anyone here?”

Vanya looks up, bangs sliding to the side of her forehead as she regards them for a moment. She shakes her head before hopping off the swing, rushing over to the slides where Five waits for her.

“There’s nobody here, Klaus,” Grace says gently, gesturing around them. “Are you sure you saw someone?”

“I saw them,” he insists stubbornly.

“He just has a very active imagination.” Grace turns to see another one of her students by her side, expression serious as he looks at Klaus.

“I do _not_ , Ben,” Klaus hisses. Ben shrugs.

“Do too. My mom says so.”

“Well, _my_ mom says you only have stomach pains for attention! She says you’re faking!”

“Not true!”

“ _Boys_ ,” Grace admonishes carefully, kneeling down as she holds the two boys apart. “Let’s think about this a little more carefully. Ben, why do you think Klaus is faking?”

“Because only he can see the people, and none of us can.” Ben wrinkles his nose. “It’s weird.”

“Hm. Klaus, why do you think Ben is faking?”

“Because none of us can feel the stomach pains. Only he can. So, he could be pretending.”

“See? You both think the other is faking because you can’t prove it to each other. The thing is, we all have things going on in our brains that we can’t explain sometimes.” Grace taps her own forehead for emphasis. “You can’t read my mind, can you? So, you will never know if I’m lying or not. You have to trust me. It’s a very big responsibility to trust people when you can’t prove if they’re faking or not. But you do it every day. Why would trusting each other to be truthful be different?”

“I don’t know,” Ben mumbles, glancing up at Klaus before looking away. Grace nods sagely.

“It’s hard, I know. Everyone does and sees things a little differently. Part of being a good person is trusting people and being nice to them, even when we don’t see or feel things the way they do. I think we can try to do that, can’t we?”

Klaus and Ben both nod, looking admonished but not completely downtrodden. Grace gives an internal sigh of relief. She’ll take that as a win.

“Good job to both of you for being open-minded. That’s an important skill to have, and I think you both are on your way to being very good at it.” She stands, brushing off the front of her skirt. “Ready to go back to class?”

She walks back into the classroom, Ben and Klaus’s hands gripping hers on either side. The second portion of the day goes a little more smoothly than the first, Ben and Klaus more willing to volunteer answers to her questions now that they’ve gotten to know her a little better. Five is still oddly surly, and the others too quiet, but it’s not bad. One step at a time.

By the time the bell tolls for lunch, the kids are ready to bolt out of their seats, grabbing lunches in a flurry of excited shouts. She silently counts their heads as they rush out the door, brow furrowing as she only counts six. Where did the last one go?

A rustle of plastic at the far side of the room alerts her to her last student’s presence, and Grace creeps over to the cabinet, happening upon her missing student with his hand stuck in the party supplies. Her mind whirs, quickly placing the student as Diego.

“Didn’t you hear the bell for lunch?” She says gently, slowly lowering herself on her knees next to Diego. He looks away from her guiltily, drawing his hands out from the plastic bin.

“I h-heard it, Miss Grace.”

“I see. So what did you stay behind for?”

“I…I…w-wanted t-t-to…” Diego stops, frowning in frustration. Grace takes a deep breath, placing a careful hand on his shoulder.

“One word at a time, dear. Picture it in your mind and take your time.”

Diego nods, brow furrowing. “I…wanted to t-take some of…these.” He nods in triumph before pulling a handful of plastic cutlery out of his pocket. He quickly shies away, as though remembering he’s in trouble and should not be showing off his stolen treasures.

“Ah, I see,” Grace says, blinking as she looks down at the utensils grasped in his small hands. No, not assorted utensils. Just…plastic knives. Okay, she can work with this. “Was there any particular reason you needed so many…knives? Did you forget one for your lunch?”

“No, I have a s-sandwich. My m-m-mom c-cut it already,” Diego mumbles, relinquishing the knives into Grace’s hand at the crook of her finger.

“I see. Do you just…like them?”

“Yes!” Diego brightens at that, eyes wide with excitement as he gestures wildly. “I want to throw them, like the h-heroes on TV! Real men throw knives!”

Grace nearly winces, looking down at the knives in her hand. “That might be a bit dangerous, don’t you think?”

“I d-don’t know.” Diego droops, expression regretful as he folds his hands in his lap. Grace hums, gathering the plastic knives in her lap as she grabs a few more fallen utensils from the floor. She straightens them into a neat pile as she speaks.

“Real men may throw knives, but you know what real men also do? They don’t do things that might hurt people. And throwing knives might hurt people. Does that sound right?”

Diego nods mutely, and he looks sad enough that Grace’s heart melts a little in her chest. She’s always been told that she’s too soft for the children she teaches, and they could easily take advantage of her. But sometimes children need a little leniency and kindness in their lives. And Grace is hardly the person to deny them that.

“Tell you what,” she says gently, pulling one of the plastic knives out from the stack and handing it, handle first, to Diego. “You can keep _one_ of the knives for now, and if you can hang onto it and keep it safe for the next 2 weeks without hurting anyone, I’ll give you another okay? And you can have one for each hand.”

Diego snatches the knife from her hand with glee, eyes sparkling as she glances at the stack in her lap. “And a-after that?”

Grace huffs out a quiet laugh, amusement overriding her rampant confusion at such overwhelming enthusiasm for plastic cutlery.

“We…we can talk more about that once you’ve gotten 2 knives.”

That seems to satisfy him, enough so that by 2 weeks end, he’s back for another plastic knife with the most excited expression on his face. Grace hands him another one and manages to secure a promise for one month of good behavior for a third.

2 weeks has been more than enough time for Grace to settle into her teaching position, now much more adept in her station and confident enough in herself to let things like bribing Diego with plastic utensils for good behavior pass without too much introspective thought.

She wields all her bargaining chips a little more deftly now, having struck a tenuous trust between Ben and Klaus as well as maintained a cautious but grudging respect from Five. It’s all part of the very delicate negotiations she’s been working on, and, she has to say, it’s all going quite well so far.

Luther and Allison are still a little confusing; a boy who punches a little too hard for his age and seems to be unaware of his strength and a girl who can somehow get anyone to do anything with a well-placed word. They make an odd pair, but they seem to have accepted Grace with calm approval.

And then there’s Vanya, always too quiet, trailing silently after Five when she isn’t sitting on the swings by herself. Luther used to push her, until he accidently pushed too hard and sent her flying into the woodchips. Vanya had forgiven him immediately through her tears, but at Allison’s suggestion, Luther had stopped pushing Vanya on the swing set.

Grace has recently been allowed to push Vanya in Luther’s place, but only during recess and only on Tuesdays and Fridays. It’s a strange system, but Grace would never presume to push a child’s trust any further than comfortable. _Especially_ not someone like Vanya, so quiet and careful, watching everything with wide eyes.

She’s found that Vanya doesn’t like to draw much attention to herself, always hanging back and observing everything form afar. She rarely answers questions in class or talks to Grace at all, so when she does, everyone, including Grace, knows that it’s time to listen. That’s what makes it so alarming when Vanya rushes up to Grace at the end of recess, tears streaming down her face.

“Vanya? Vanya, what’s wrong?” Grace kneels down to Vanya’s height, brushing tears away with her thumb. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“Five left,” she mumbles through her tears, sniffling violently. Grace blinks.

“I’m sorry? What do you mean Five…left?”

“He ran away. He left the Academy.”

Grace’s blood freezes in her veins, and her grip tightens on Vanya’s shoulders.

“Vanya. Are you sure?”

She nods. “He opened the gate and left. I think it’s still open, if you check.”

“Okay.” Grace takes a shuddering breath, rising to her feet. “Okay. I need all of you to listen to me very carefully.”

The students turn, eyes wide as they look at Grace. She’s never sounded as serious as she does now, and she can fear their fear levels beginning to rise.

“There’s no need to be afraid,” she reassures them gently. “ Five seems to have take a quick trip outside the Academy, and I need to go get him. Are you all alright with joining Mr. Hazel’s class for the time being?” At the wave of nods, Grace sighs with relief. “Wonderful. Bring your workbooks with you, so we don’t trouble Mr. Hazel and his students much.”

“What happened?” Hazel eyes Grace’s students filing into his classroom, moving away from the kids as he gives Grace a concerned look.

“Have you seen Five?” Grace whispers urgently. “Vanya says he just _left_.”

“Left? The kid disappears a lot, but he’s never jumped ship before.” Hazel glances at the clock. “Better get a move on finding him, I’ll hold down the fort here.”

“You’re wonderful,” Grace says fervently before turning on her heel and racing out of the school. It’s cold outside, too cold for any child to be out and about. Grace clutches Five’s heavy winter coat to her chest, jogging briskly down the sidewalk as her eyes sweep storefronts and alleyways. No sign of her student. Grace groans.

God, what an absolute _conundrum_. Not even a full month on the job and she’s already lost a student. Though, technically this student ran away. But Grace is pretty sure Mr. Hargreeves will not care enough to see the distinction between the two.

Grace’s gaze falls upon a familiar storefront and she quickly ducks into _Carmichael Aquarium & Pets_.

“AJ,” Grace huffs out, bracing her hand against the counter, “have you seen a child in an Umbrella Academy uniform? About this tall?” She gestures with her hands relative to the floor.

“Nope,” AJ says quietly, shaking his head. It’s always a long shot asking AJ about anything other than fish and a few other types of pets, but he’s observant enough that it’s worth the effort to ask. Usually.

“Do you know anyone who could have seen him?”

“Nope.”

“ _AJ_ ,” Grace says lowly, pressing her palm to her forehead. AJ shrugs.

“I haven’t seen a child in here without a parent in at least a week.” His expression softens at the desperate look on Grace’s face. “I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

Grace waves her hand with a sigh. “Can I at least use your phone to alert the police?”

AJ graciously allows her the use of his phone before she stumbles back out into the cold, lips pursed together as she thinks hard.

_Pull it together, Grace. Where would Five be? Where do you think he would go?_

Grace frowns, looking around. Five is a proud creature, the kind who would never dream of asking for help. The chances of any shop patrons helping him while he waits are slim. If he were lost, if he didn’t know where he was going (which she’s fairly sure is the case), he would most likely keep walking until he hit a spot that would be different enough to jolt him into realizing he’s lost. And in a sea of streets and shops, that has to be the park. Grace hurries toward it, wincing as the frigid air pushes her forward.

“Ben!” A distant shout carries on the wind and Grace exhales with relief. Her hunch was correct. He’s close enough for her to find. “Vanya!”

“Five!” She shouts, hoping that her voice carries enough that he can hear.

“Miss…Grace?”

“I’m coming Five, I’m almost there.”

The second she catches sight of him, he sees her as well. And with a running jump, Five is curled in Grace’s arms, burrowing his face in her shoulder.

“Oh, Five,” Grace murmurs, brushing her hand soothingly through his hair as he shakes silently under her hands. “I’ve got you sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

She holds him tight, stroking his hair and murmuring reassuring nonsense in his ear until he emerges for air, eyes red and cheeks streaked wet.

“Miss Grace,” he says haltingly, voice nasally. Grace manages to remove him enough from her grip to hand him his coat, opening her arms and letting him curl up against her the moment his coat is on him and buttoned up.

“Five, why did you go? How did you end up here?”

“I got lost. I ran and I ran and then I couldn’t get back and I called your names but you couldn’t hear me and—” Five gulps, voice fading as he shivers, pressing his face against her coat. Grace hums, curling her arms in a more secure grip around him before lifting him up, cradling Five against her.

“Well it’s a good thing I found you then, isn’t it? We’ll go back to the Academy now, where everyone is waiting for you.”

“They’re waiting for me?” Five says dumbly, peering up at her. Grace laughs gently.

“Of course, silly. We were all very worried about you. Especially Vanya, she was extremely worried.”

“Oh.” Five blinks, nodding slowly as he loops his arms around Grace’s neck, gripping the back of her jacket tight. “I scared her, didn’t I?”

“You scared all of us, to be perfectly honest.” Grace pauses, looking down at Five. “Why did you run away?”

“I told Vanya I have the power to break rules, and I can go places where nobody else can.” Five nods very seriously, looking up at her. “I’ve always had this power, even before you came. I told the others about it too. But they didn’t believe me, so I showed them. I ran because I wanted to show them.”

Grace blinks before nodding carefully. Heaven help her, the third graders of room 3B are so _strange_. But they’re her kids, and despite how confused she is, a pocket of warmth still blooms in her heart. They’re _her_ kids, and she’s going to do right by them, not matter how strange they are.

“I see. But it wasn’t safe to use your power, was it? You could have been lost enough that I couldn’t find you.”

“But it’s my power! I can do it!” Five declares, shifting in her grip and puffing up his chest. Grace laughs at that, waiting until Five’s settled back down in her arms before she ducks her head, lowering her voice to a murmur.

“Can I ask you to do something very, very important? A special task for you, because you can handle this.”

Five nods, and Grace continues carefully.

“You have to be very, _very_ careful with your powers. You have a great responsibility on your shoulders with this power of breaking the rules. You see, only you have this power. But everyone else might think they have it too and then when they try to break the rules, they’ll get hurt. You won’t, but they will, do you understand?”

Five nods solemnly. “I do.”

“Good. So, you have to be careful with your powers, so you can keep your classmates safe. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” Five says with hesitation, expression incredibly serious as he agrees. Grace smiles. He feels wise beyond his years sometimes. Except when he isn’t. Except when he’s just a child. But it’s endearing all the same.

“Wonderful. Now,” Grace says, setting Five carefully down. “Let’s go get the others, shall we?”

It’s a tearful reunion, Vanya launching herself into Five’s arms as the others crowd around them. Grace mentally scratches out the day’s remaining lesson plans before suggesting a group story time to appease them all. They must feel rather delicate, because the children tug her out of her customary reading chair and request for her to sit on the ground with them with desperate whines and pleads.

So that’s how Grace finds herself sitting on the classroom carpet, surrounded by her 7 students all curled around her in a rather messy pile. It’s far from perfect; the carpet beneath them is itchy, Diego’s elbow is digging into her side, and her leg is falling asleep where Vanya is sprawled on top of it. But none of it matters, because her students are safe and warm and happy.

Grace smiles as she turns the page, taking a deep breath as she prepares to read the words aloud. As long as they’re happy, she’s happy too.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on [ tumblr](https://shizuoi.tumblr.com/) if you want to chat!


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